


Forever is a Long Time

by zelkkova



Category: Yu-Gi-Oh! GX
Genre: M/M, References to Depression, Suicidal Thoughts
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-20
Updated: 2020-01-20
Packaged: 2021-04-25 20:26:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,103
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22336579
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/zelkkova/pseuds/zelkkova
Summary: Edo isn't lost without Ryo - he just doesn't know what he wants anymore. Implied suicide notes, suicidal thoughts, etc.
Relationships: Marufuji Ryou | Zane Truesdale/Edo Phoenix | Aster Phoenix
Comments: 1
Kudos: 11





	Forever is a Long Time

The tapping of a fountain pen against mahogany reverberates in the empty room.

Edo is alone, pulled up to a desk in a chair with three wheels and one hollow receptacle where a fourth used to reside. With each subtle shift it rocks uncomfortably beneath his weight; he tries to ignore it as he brings the pen to his mouth and mindlessly chews the end. The chair shifts again. He bites harder.

Before him lies a blank sheet of paper, marked only by a stray drop of ink. The blot is spreading, veiny, throughout the paper, tendrils snaking in all different directions like a cruel, dark spiral. Edo traces the curves with careful, overly-precise eyes, watching each branch claim more territory in a feverish attempt to control the entirety of the sheet.

He sets down the pen. The spiral thickens.

A sigh escapes his throat as he leans his weight into the back of the chair, arms raising above his head, fingers stapling together beneath his skull. He nestles into his palms, allows himself to close his eyes and just breathe the cold, stale air. Each lungful is pained.

It isn’t that he wants to leave. It’s just that he doesn’t want to stay. Each day passes in monotony, the same cyclical occurrences one after the other. There is no variation, no spice to his melting pot of life. Each face that passes by is as drained as the next, each person walking the earth with the life choked out of them. Even his deck seems like it has been coughed from the lungs of a dying world. It does not bring him the joy that it once did.

He supposes it isn’t his own fault.

That Ryo. His lips curl into a forced sneer; his eyebrows draw close together, tightly knit. The lines on his face deepen.

“Ryo,” he grumbles, and the name tastes almost foreign rolling off his tongue. It has been months since he said it last, and he did not anticipate the bitterness it would bring. How could he? He sighs. It feels wrong.

He can’t chalk up a reason to one simple thing. As much as he would enjoy being able to pass off the blame, he cannot. Ryo was selfish. Ryo was stupid. Ryo was annoying and beautiful and the only person that could ignite the dying embers in Edo’s heart. But Ryo was -  _ is  _ \- dead, and Edo remembers happiness no longer.

It’s such a chore, he thinks, to care about people. To care about Ryo. After everything, he still gives a shit, and Edo isn’t sure why. Ryo is gone, and he should be done, should be up and moved on and living his best life like everything meant nothing. It’s what people do. It’s the epitome of the human psyche - being able to push past pain. Living, remembering, forgetting. You can’t miss what you forget. And he tries, he tries so fucking hard, but every drink, every pinprick of pain, everything brings back Ryo, crashing into him like a building wave with no concept of mercy. It’s Ryo everywhere, in the walls, in the mirror, in the photo frames that are now empty. He is in the bottom of the whiskey bottle on Edo’s nightstand, in the top of the cabinets that Edo could never reach, in the scratches on the living room table from the metal on his coat. And Edo remembers everything with icy clarity. It’s some kind of curse. He’s sure of it.

So he stares at the blot on the paper, eyes hollow. 

Move, he wills himself. A shaky hand, reaching for the pen, reaching for the paper, reaching for the words. Move. He scribbles dark swirls between the lines, messy, loopy cursive. Move. The list comes together, the apology, the explanation. The letters blend together. Sloppy tears trickle down his cheeks. Ink is smudged, paper swells with salty water drops. Edo scrawls his signature at the bottom.

I’m sorry.

It’s time to leave this place. Edo rises, body quaking. His letter sits on the desk, barely legible, stained with tears, tears that have no business marring his face. He’s stronger than this. Ryo was stronger than this. One last time. He has to show Ryo up one last time.

He steels himself with a long, bated breath. He fixes his tie, wipes the tears from his face with the back of his hand. Love, life, death. Destiny. All the things he believes in and never believed in, converging at a single point in his existence. And it’s chaos. His head is roaring, his heart is pounding. He feels alive.

Edo casts a thousand yard glance out the penthouse window. It’s raining outside. The city is lit up in a damp sparkle. He thinks it is quite beautiful.

The pills are on his bedside table, in front of the whiskey. He reaches for them, unscrews the cap. A handful would be enough. But he stares at the capsules with a bittersweet expression. He could see Ryo again, hold him, kiss him, tell him how sorry he is and how stupid Ryo is and goddamn, I fucking love you, do you know how much I’ve missed you? And Ryo will shake his head, smile that faint smile of his, the one he does only around Edo, and wrap his arms around him for the first time in months. It will be warm - so warm. Edo will be ugly crying, sniffling and howling into Ryo’s chest, tears and snot rushing down his face like a waterfall, but he won’t care, he’ll be with Ryo, and he’ll be able to trash talk him again late at night when they’re watching the pro circuit. You would’ve lost to that guy. Bet you couldn’t beat him in less than three turns. And Ryo will retort, and Edo will laugh, and they’ll fall asleep on each other just like they always did. He could get everything back with just one handful. Just one. The pain would be immense, but would it be anything like the pain of missing Ryo? No. Surely not. Endure the pain, and see Ryo again. Be together forever. Stupid, competitive, trash-talking bliss, forever, and ever, and…

He is crying.

He puts them back. Not tonight.

* * *

When he falls asleep on the couch, alone, listening to the rain, the pro circuit duels playing on his flat-screen in the background, he is smiling. Just a little. Bittersweet. Ryo would’ve loved this. And as much as he misses Ryo, there’s one thing about Edo that always surprises himself.

He’s stronger than fate would have him believe.


End file.
